


you wanted to be in love and he happened to get in the way

by foldingcranes



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Angst, Coda, Depression, Episode Tag, Episode: s15e07 Last Call, Hurt No Comfort, M/M, Past Benny Lafitte/Dean Winchester, Past Lee Webb/Dean Winchester, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-12
Updated: 2019-12-12
Packaged: 2021-02-27 00:48:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 586
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21768661
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/foldingcranes/pseuds/foldingcranes
Summary: Where are you?(He’s cutting off heads, he’s punching faces, he’s stabbing chests.)
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Comments: 8
Kudos: 65





	you wanted to be in love and he happened to get in the way

Dean’s hands are shaking around Baby’s wheel and then they’re not, then it’s not Lee saying _okay_ before Dean impales him with a fucking pool stick, it’s not Lee’s blood on his hands.

Dean blinks, and the Mark of Cain throbs on his arm, poison in his veins, the grip of his hand around a knife —a blade, a pool stick, a gun— poised right above Castiel, and Cas says _please, Dean_ and his blue eyes are pleading.

Dean blinks again, lungs starting to burn with the telltale signs of panic, and then he’s staring at _Benny’s_ blue eyes, the corners of his mouth downturned in sadness, the phantom warmth of his embrace gone as soon as Dean cuts his off head, then kneels next to it and pukes all over the ground until he’s—

—Crying, Dean’s crying, like a fucking child who got something ripped away from him, like crying would fix something, anything. _You stupid boy,_ John Winchester speaks in Dean’s head, gruff and cruel and probably smelling like Jack’s, just like the bottle Dean keeps under the seat, just like the shots he did before getting into the car and heard Cas’s voicemail message and the poorly built foundations of his heart shook and fell down once again, as if Dean were built upon clay, upon mud, upon sand.

_Where are you?_

(He’s cutting off heads, he’s punching faces, he’s stabbing chests.) 

_Man it up. Man it up_ , Dean parks, immediately missing Baby's soothing rumble. He should get out of the car, go to the bunker, go to Sam, go _home_. But he can't. There's blood under his fingernails and splinters in the pads of his fingers, making the skin look swollen and red. They hurt. _Go home_ , he tells himself. _Stop crying_ , Dean thinks in his best John Winchester voice. _Just calm the fuck down and snap out of it, no one is going to kiss your fucking boo-boos._

Lee had said _okay_ , Lee had bled on the floor, fast. Dean had made it quick for him, almost tender. He had made it quick for Benny too, because Dean’s a killer with a swollen heart that spills out of his ribcage and leaks everywhere, making a mess, disaster in its wake until he closes his eyes and he’s too afraid of opening them, too afraid to look and find Cas’s body there lying on the ground, joining the others in the big pyre of waste lit by Dean’s love.

At home, the lights are bright and Sam’s okay, Eileen by his side, and Cas won’t speak to him, Cas won’t look at him and it carves this empty space in Dean’s chest, this hole of need and rage that beats to the tune of _You’re here, you’re here, you’re here_ and _You can’t, can’t, can’t._

There’s a growing pile of bodies in Dean’s heart. Cas walked away from it. Cas cut his losses and left. Cas made a choice, maybe to prove a point, maybe to punish Dean, but Cas made a _choice_.

He said _Where are you?_ And Dean wants to say _right here_. Dean wants to say _nowhere since you left_. Dean wants to say _please, it hurts_. But the silence between them is too thick, too heavy to be lifted and, eventually, Cas shakes his head and leaves. And Dean stands there, with his bad choices, with his soured feelings and his soiled dreams and _hurts_.

Once Dean can no longer hear his footsteps, _only then_ , he falls apart.

**Author's Note:**

> [yell at me!!!](https://twitter.com/foldingcranes/)


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